


'Til the Cows Come Home

by tisfan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 15:19:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12256950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: When the Avengers are called to round up some intergalactic cows, things take a turn for the... sexy?Steve wants it known that this is not what he signed up for...





	'Til the Cows Come Home

**Author's Note:**

> Cap/Iron Man Bingo Card  
> Prompt: Sex Pollen
> 
> My beta reader would like it known that she's amused that I worked angst into a sex pollen story. Also, I removed a great deal of irrelevant science (you're welcome) because fucking Steve in a chair is a lot more interesting...

_“That’s it, that’s just right,” a harsh whisper in his ear. An eager mouth explored down his neck, licking and biting, drawing it out. There was a hand on his cock, stroking, and he was close, so close. The noises he was making, he barely recognized. High-pitched whimpers, moans, pleading cries…_

Steve jerked awake with a strangled cry; he tried to reach for the dream-lover, and was thrown into a sudden panic, realized that his arms were secured behind his back, his legs bound, his chin tucked down on his chest. He struggled, breath coming faster. He couldn’t move but a few precious inches.

The panic didn’t even start to cut through the dream. He was still hard as a rock, aching for a lover that had suddenly been denied him.

Steve yanked harder, the restraints cutting into his skin. He bruised, healed, bruised again as he twisted and tugged.

“Easy there, Tristan,” a familiar, sarcastic voice said.

“Tony, what the--”

“Stop struggling, you’re just gonna hurt yourself,” Tony said. He paused for a moment. “Or me.”

Steve blinked, trying to clear his thoughts, not the easiest task when bound to a chair and dealing with a certain amount of frantic desire that he didn’t really want to admit to. Bad enough Tony was in the room--

Except _Tony_ was in the room.

… Steve jerked his chin up, stared at Tony. The other man was sitting on the lower bunk of what looked like a prison bunk, thin mattress, pitiful blankets, a mostly-flat pillow. Tony was bruised up, like they’d been in a fight and he’d gotten knocked around in the suit. That happened more than Tony usually admitted, and he was often busy avoiding medical.

 _… and he was utterly, utterly gorgeous. Steve had seen him hundreds, probably thousands of times at this point, and how was it that he’d never noticed how gorgeous he was? Well, not that Steve didn’t_ know _Tony was a good-looking man, everyone said it, and Steve supposed he could see it; those rich brown eyes, the shapely cheekbones, the mouth that was made for sin and kisses, that stubborn chin. Brilliant, witty, funny… long legs, dextrous fingers. Ass that wouldn’t quit, even Steve had noticed that much, and he tried to make a point of avoiding thinking about his teammates as potential partners…_

Except that he obviously hadn’t. Because even when he averted his gaze to the floor, Steve could picture Tony with utmost clarity, how beautiful and amazing he was, and how damn much Steve _wanted_ him. Seemed like he’d always wanted him, he just… didn’t want to acknowledge it. Afraid of what Tony might do, or say, if he knew that Steve was interested. Tony never seemed to lack for dates, what did he want with an out-of-time super soldier who triggered all of Tony’s daddy issues?

He squirmed in the chair, not so much struggling with the restraints anymore, but desperate for a little bit of friction against his aching dick, contained inside his armor, and Tony was right… there… Steve couldn’t help the little whine that escaped his throat.

“Yeah, _that_ ,” Tony said with a sigh. “Look, if it makes you feel better, you don’t really feel that way.”

“What, feel what way, Tony, what?” Yes he _did_ , he just had never quite felt this compulsion to act on his wanting. Didn’t mean he didn’t want it, just meant he wasn’t going to ruin a good working relationship with awkward feelings. That Tony didn’t and couldn’t possibly return. Steve twisted his wrists; there had to be some way out of this. He didn’t… he just _needed…_

“It’s not you,” Tony said. “It’s me. And if I had a dime for every time I’ve said that, I’d have a damn lot of dimes, that’s for sure. But in this case, it might actually be true.”

“Can you get me out of here?”

( _...he wanted to put hands on Tony, just to touch his skin, just kiss his mouth, just get him out of those clothes and spread out on that bed and…_ )

“What the hell is going on?” Okay, so maybe he’d had this dream before, and maybe he was really good at repressing it, but he’d never so much as hinted to anyone that he--

“What do you remember about the mission, Cap?”

Hard to concentrate; the longer he had this conversation with Tony, the less he wanted to be talking.

( _...really wanted Tony to be begging for it, pleading, whining and moaning, voice spiraling up…_ )

Steve was panting for breath by the time he got himself back under minimal control. He couldn’t say those things to Tony. Not with Tony sitting there--

( _on the bed, wanted him spread out, wanted to cradle himself between Tony’s thighs, wanted to… want…_ )

\--and looking so calm and collected. “Alien craft. Crashed in… West Virginia. Had… chasing extraterrestrial animals around.”

“That would be right,” Tony said, and Steve warmed to the praise, wanting Tony’s good opinion, needing it like air… he watched, spellbound, as Tony licked his lip and then squirmed, uncomfortably.

( _...get him on his knees, Steve pushing his way inside the wet heat of Tony’s body…_ )

“So, apparently these galactic sharecroppers or ranchers or whatever they are, I don’t know, Thor handled that bit, were carting their space-cows from one side of the galaxy to the other, and they stopped here because they needed water. A couple of the cows got away, and that’s what we were fighting.”

Steve nodded, slowly, not taking his eyes off Tony’s mouth.

(... _those plush, full lips and that agile tongue and the places where Steve wanted to shove Tony’s head_ …)

“So, and here’s the part where you need to pay attention,” Tony said, scowling. “Apparently, what these cowpokes do, they have a female cow-thing and they spritz her with a chemical that makes her go into heat; there’s a lot of pheromones and stuff she makes, and the boy cows --”

“I think that word is bull,” Steve said, pedantically.

“--whatever, Buffalo Bill.” Tony waved a hand around dismissively. “The problem here is that I got misted with their damn mating perfume. And you… well, apparently, your super-schnozz picked the scent right up. Thor had to knock you out, or you--”

( _... tearing at the red-and-gold armor, trying to get to the man underneath, needing that skin on skin, needing…_ )

“Did I hurt you, oh, god, Tony, I’m so--”

Steve stopped talking because Tony was blushing. Steve had always been so sure that Tony was utterly, utterly shameless and--

(... _Tony opened the faceplate, a question on his lips, but Steve wasn’t listening. He grabbed the back of Tony’s neck and pulled him in, lips fastening on Tony’s, tongue sweeping inside Tony’s mouth to taste and take and…_ )

“Coming back to you, now?” Tony asked, one eyebrow going up as Steve gasped at the memory.

“I kissed you?” Steve managed to sound incredulous, despite the fact that he wanted to do it again, more.

( _... strip Tony naked and lick every inch of him, from the jaw all the way down those long legs to his toes and back up, stopping everywhere that made him moan and writhe and…_ )

“Yeah, well, you didn’t know what you were doing,” Tony said, and he wasn’t looking directly at Steve, the back of his neck was a dull, brick red, and he slouched against the wall. “And don’t worry, none of this is real. You don’t feel the way you think you feel, it’s just a chemical brain reaction.”

 _Don’t tell me how I feel._ “Why are… why are you in quarantine?” Steve asked. He assumed that’s what it was, keeping him away from other people while… except it didn’t make sense. Why would Tony be in here, if it was Tony who was in danger of Steve’s out of control sex-drive?

( _...Tony under his hands, begging for it, whimpering and shaking with need…_ )

Tony chuckled, bitter and short. “I’m still doused in the pheremones generator thing. My body is producing the… whatever it is that’s making you crazy. I don’t know, Bruce is working on it, I think. If I wasn’t quarantined, I’d be getting marathon gangbanged wherever I went. You’ve got the most sensitive nose, not the only one, Casanova.”

Steve was snarling, tugging harder at the bonds, incensed and outraged by the idea of anyone else putting hands on Tony, of--

“No one else better _fucking touch you_ ,” Steve growled, fighting jealousy and rage. The manacles that had his hands bound behind his back creaked as he moved. Maybe, just a bit…

“Whoa, down boy,” Tony said, spreading his hands. “It’s okay. I’m here.” Tony was halfway off the bed, reaching for Steve, when he froze suddenly.

Steve leaned forward, as much as he could in the chair, staring at Tony. “Why are you in here, why not… away from me? You’re not affected by this stuff-- you don’t… _want_ me--?” It hurt, deep and aching, all the way to the balls of his feet, his joints. _Hurt_. Tony didn’t want him.

“Oh, my god, Captain Crazypants,” Tony said, blinking, “you’re _offended_ , that I-- look, this is not about who’s sexually attracted to who. You don’t have to be disappointed. It’s just--”

“You’re lying,” Steve said, suddenly.

Tony blanched. “No, I.. not really, no?” He wasn’t looking at Steve, eyes searching the room as if the answers were written on the walls. “I just… haven’t told you the whole truth, yet.”

(... _the flush on Tony’s cheeks, the way his brown eyes looked even darker. Tony was…_ interested?)

“What’s the rest of it, then?”

Tony held up one finger. “Well. Here’s the sticking point. You’ll be fine, the pheromones bring you to me, but… well, if I don’t get…” Tony was blushing furiously. “If _I_ don’t get fucked, I’ll die from it.”

Steve’s stomach dropped into his boots. “ _What_? Why?”

Tony shrugged. “Do I look like an alien cow-herder to you? This was not my idea, Cap.”

( _... Tony’s death was a horrible thought. Steve had almost lost him a dozen times or more already, and each time the terror had been bone deep. But the idea that there was no choice, that Tony was going to… oh, god…_ )

“Oh my god,” Steve blurted. “So, why did--”

“Why did we knock you out and tie you up, rather than just let you pounce on me? Probably a good question, but I just… look, it’s a bad situation and sometimes we just get stuck with those and we have to suck it up and deal.”

( _..Tony probably shouldn’t have used those words because half of what he said was lost to the swirl of dark lust and wanting when Tony’s plush mouth formed the word suck, because, dear christ, that’s exactly…_ )

\--“What?”

Tony ran a hand over his scalp, shoving his casually disheveled hairstyle into something that was more disarranged and less artful. “It’s important to me,” he said.

“What is?”

“Your consent. That this… that this is going to happen. I just…”

“You would rather _die_ than what, let me--”

( _... open Tony up with his fingers, with his fucking tongue, get him wet and slick until he could take Steve’s cock, impale him on it…_ )

“No,” Tony snapped. “I… fuck. I would rather you actually _wanted_ to, and not have some fucked up alien science freaking… sex pollen… forcing you--”

“You want to,” Steve said, slow. Like a miracle, like a perfect sunrise, everything dawned on him. “You _want_ to.”

“Yeah, _okay_ ,” Tony said. “I’ve always wanted to, if we’re going to be all honest and sincere and shit. Yes. How the hell haven’t you noticed, everyone else has!”

“So--” and it was hard to string words together, because all Steve could fucking think about was that he was going to get to spread Tony out, fuck him until they were both crying out “--if you want to, and I want to, and I consent to this, because I’m not going to feel differently when this is over--”

“Yes, you are, Cap. You don’t want this, you don’t want me. But, it’s still--”

“Shut up, Tony. I can’t think of a universe in which I want you to die for it, why am I still tied up in this goddamn chair, Tony, could you please just… _please…_ I…”

“Yeah, I’m going to the special hell,” Tony said, as if he was talking to himself, but it didn’t matter at all, because he was moving closer to Steve, close enough that Steve could feel the heat of his body baking out through his clothes. Close enough that Steve could smell him, almost close enough to touch, and then he was straddling Steve’s lap, and thank god, thank god…

Tony lowered his head and kissed Steve.

The universe took fire.

***

“The sitch is fucked up enough--” bad word choice there, damnit, Stark! “--without you… begging like that. Please stop.” Every time Steve shivered or whimpered or moaned, Tony wanted to do everything he was asking for. Wanted to strip Steve naked and spread him out on the freaking floor and devour him. Wanted to take him apart with his fucking tongue.

Tony wasn’t affected by the pheromones -- or at least he probably wasn't -- but he was in lust (okay, maybe it was love, but there was no way to tell since it was all unrequited garbage that just got in the way of everything else) with Steve and had been even before anyone knew Steve was still alive.

So, when Steve was whining and moaning and begging for Tony to let him free, to let him put his hands on Tony, to kiss him and touch him and… “Stop, okay!”

“Why, why, why?” Steve whimpered in between frantic kisses, his hips moving against Tony’s ass as Tony sat, perched, in his lap. “C’mon, let’s...let me…”

“Steve,” Tony said, and he couldn’t help put punctuate that with another rough, needy kiss, “you’re bigger than I am. You’re stronger than I am. And you’re not exactly in your right mind. So, you want this, right? We’re going to do it in a manner that doesn’t have one of us bleeding and the other one screaming, okay?”

Steve nodded; his kisses were already a little bitey, and Tony thought it might be a good idea to just… take it easy, a little bit, okay? Would that be okay? Because _Jesus_ , this was so fucked up. He was definitely going to be suing the space cowboys for psychological damages, because this never should have happened and if it was going to happen, he would have rather _both_ of them been out of their fucking minds, because he was going to spend the rest of his goddamn life hating himself for this moment.

Which kinda took the zing out of being able to have sex with someone he _desperately_ wanted to have sex with.

_Which sucked._

Okay, okay, how was this going to work, and _fuck_ it was distracting as hell to try to work logistics when Steve was sucking on his goddamn earlobe and breathing hot and heavy into his ear. Tonguing at the spot just behind his ear, and that was one of Tony’s weak spots. He couldn’t help a moan, couldn’t keep himself from leaning into it.

“Oh, you _like_ that,” Steve murmured, and kept doing it, teeth barely grazing the skin, lips moving soft and supple against Tony’s throat.. Tony’s hands went into Steve’s hair, feeling the tickle of it against his palms and then his mouth was back on Steve’s, and they were kissing. Kissing like Tony had never dared to dream, even in his darkest, late night jerk-off sessions. He’d never known that Steve’s mouth would be so silken against his, that the taste of him would be wild in a way that reminded Tony of sunlight, that his tongue would brush against Tony’s like Tony was the most perfect thing in the world. If Tony had known this, had known it was going to be like this, he might not have been so willing to swallow it down and let his crush be unrequited. Might have at least tried for a date.

There was never going to be any more than that, Tony knew that. No matter what Steve might say now, no matter that they were friends, and that this was… truly a matter of life and death. It was always going to be this awkward thing between them, and Steve…

Fuck.

If this was going to be all he had, he was going to take it. Make as much from it as he could.

“Yeah, okay,” Tony said, pulling back a little and then losing himself to the incredible blue of Steve’s eyes, kissed him again, and again. Right, he was… “look, let me get undressed and I’ll prep for you. Then--” Then he’d straddle Steve in the chair and take him and… yeah, okay, so…

“And then, what, Tony?” Steve rattled the cuffs behind his back. “I’m tied up, getting me naked--”

No, Tony didn’t want to visualize that, because… “Look, we’ll get to that. I just need to get your pants undone.”

The cuffs rattled again and Tony found himself eyeing the chair a little nervously. He wasn’t entirely lying to Steve about it; Tony really didn’t want to get fucked through a wall _literally_. But it was also a little bit for Steve; that Steve would be able to tell himself later there wasn’t a choice, that he wouldn’t… fuck, Tony wanted to just shut his goddamn brain off and _get on_ with it.

God, this was _awkward_. Tony toed his shoes off and unbuckled his belt. Steve watched him, mouth slightly open, eyes intent, and Tony was blushing again, god damn it.

“Tony,” Steve groaned out his name as Tony unzipped.

Jesus, Tony felt like the world’s most awkward stripper. And how the hell was he supposed to finger himself open while Steve was looking at him like that. (On the other hand, he supposed it was better than Steve looking at him with disgust. But maybe not looking would be…)

“Goddamnit, this is _weird_ ,” Tony complained. He shed his boxers anyway, stepping out of them.

“C’mon, Tony,” Steve said, leaning forward as far as he could. “I… your shirt’s in the way, I can’t see. I… can I just…” And he opened his mouth, tongue flicking out to wet his lip and if Tony’s dick wasn’t involved before that, it certainly was now, because Tony got a complete visual download on that, Steve sucking his cock while his hands were tied behind his back, with Tony controlling the depth and...

“What, Steve?” Tony’s voice broke.

“You want me to taste you? Suck it? Come on, let me do this,” Steve said, an offer. It wouldn’t get Steve off. It wouldn’t form the pheromone bond that would spare Tony’s life. All it would do was _feel good_. God, he shouldn’t…

And… yeah, okay, he was going to. It’s not like he could hate himself any more.

He stepped between Steve’s spread knees. Tony’s legs pressed tight against the chair. Unbuttoned his shirt like he was giving Steve a show and let it fall to the floor, standing naked in front of a completely dressed Captain America.

Steve ducked his chin, he had to bend and strain to reach and the things it was doing to the muscles in Steve’s back were criminal and yet…

_Oh, god._

“You know I can’t…” Tony gasped, trying to keep hold of some higher brain functions, but really, they wanted to pack their bags and go find someone more sensible to keep company with. “Can’t… fuck, Steve, that’s goo--- oh, my god, what the hell are you doing with your tongue, because _that…_ ”

Whatever that was, apparently Tony was a fan, and Steve was a fast fucking learner, because he did it again. And again, until Tony was clinging to Steve’s shoulders for dear life. His hips were moving entirely without his consent, and he was… _goddamn_ , he was face-fucking _Captain America_.

And _fuck_ , it was the most sinful, sensational thing Tony’d ever done, and given the epic amount of sex Tony Stark had experienced, that was saying a lot.

Steve slurped and twisted his tongue over Tony’s cock, sucking the head back and deep-throating him, humming happily. And then he was fucking looking up at Tony through those crazy dark blond eyelashes and how was that even fucking fair that Steve had the most incredibly expressive bedroom eyes Tony’d ever seen?

Tony couldn’t resist it, running his hands over Steve’s hair, nudging and directing, and Steve went, letting Tony dictate the terms of their actions, taking Tony as deep as he could. Tony’s hands were all over Steve, everything he could reach and stroke. Steve pulled back with a wet, obscene pop to mouth at Tony’s thighs, sucking blood to the skin’s surface, leaving heated, red bruises behind. “Want, want,” Steve murmured, before sucking Tony back down, humming and sending vibrations across his skin.

“Jesus,” Tony swore, clutching Steve’s head so that he would not stop doing what he was doing, and fuck, Tony was going to, he was…

He lost himself to powerful sensations coursing through him, panting for breath and being utterly unable to stop babbling, a mix of praise and swear words and high, desperate moans.

Except that then Steve fucking _stopped_ , he stopped, the goddamn tease, the fucking minx, the… Tony couldn’t even think of a word bad enough that didn’t sound like he’d culled it from a romance novel.

“Let me loose,” Steve said, calm as you please, as if he hadn’t been tonsil deep with Tony’s dick not five seconds previous.

“Wha?” Tony gaped at him.

“Let me loose. Tony, let me out of this goddamn chair.”

And honestly, Tony knew, he could fucking tell, he wouldn’t have to do much, would just have to straddle Steve and everything would be right back to where it made sense (ok, so it didn’t make sense at all, but they’d be back where the not-sense-making was at least what Tony’d already committed to.) but the wicked little gleam in Steve’s eyes… not to mention Tony’s aching dick, were convincing him that maybe it wasn’t a bad idea. Who was he fooling, of course it was a bad idea, but when did Tony Stark let logic stand between him and the stupid-ass thing he was about to do.

And if Steve didn’t touch him again, Tony was going to fucking die, that was as simple as it was.

He took a few steps backward and punched the disengage for the mag locks.

It was like being tackled by the world’s most gentle hurricane.

Steve had Tony on his back on the cot before Tony could even blink, and then he didn’t want to blink, because he fucking didn’t want to miss this.

Utterly distracted by the way Steve was kissing him, Tony didn’t even notice Steve working the armor off with both hands until he was growling with frustration.

“Lemme help you,” Tony murmured, and together they worked the buckles and straps and snaps and, quite frankly, some of it tore under Steve’s impatience to get as much of his skin bare as possible, and shouldn’t that not have been a factor? Tony’s impressions of the pheromone generator were that Steve would be insane with lust, not tender and passionate. That he’d just need his dick out and a willing (or unwilling) hole to stuff it in.

But Steve was taking his time. As soon as he was naked, he took it down a notch, stroking Tony everywhere he could reach, teasing Tony’s nipples erect, licking along the scars left behind after the arc-reactor had been removed. Kissing, nuzzling at Tony’s throat.

Tony arched back, spread his legs, and just let Steve get on with it. Because it was the most wonderful… “Yes, yes, let’s do that,” he whispered. Steve found the lube and Tony’s thighs went even wider.

Steve circled his hole with damp fingers, pushing and testing, and then breaching him, and fuck, Steve’s fingers were _huge_ , and Tony couldn’t actually see Steve’s cock because of the angle, but the way he was pressed against Tony’s thigh, maybe it was good that his fingers were so big, because Tony was going to goddamn need all the stretch he could get.

“I can’t wait to be in you,” Steve said, twisting his wrist. Tony writhed on that finger, pushing down and clenching experimentally. And somewhere, in the depths of Tony’s brain which could just not shut up, he started wondering exactly when and where Captain fucking America had learned about gay sex, because nothing in the history books, or in Howard’s endless stories about the man had indicated that he’d know how to do… oh, fuck, how to do that. _Jesus Horatio Christ._

“Yeah, yeah, I…”

“So glad you feel the same way,” Steve said, and then Tony couldn’t answer because Steve was kissing him breathless again. It was liquid fire in his veins, burning everything and robbing Tony of coherency, and he did not care. He just wanted it not to stop, to keep going, to take and take everything that he could.

“Oh, fuck,” Tony gasped as Steve pushed another finger inside, making that little beckoning gesture, and, oh, god. His thumb rubbed wickedly at the rim of Tony’s opening.

“I got you, Tony,” Steve said.

Steve made that beckoning gesture again, and Tony went limp in his arms, weak as a kitten with desire. And then there were three and Tony was sobbing with need and heat and burn, and stretch, and then, everything let go and opened up and what was too much was suddenly not enough. He found a strange reversal of their positions, with Tony desperately begging for more and Steve circling his gaping rim and denying him, just for the sake of teasing and stoking the fire, and…

Tony’s hands went to the backs of his thighs, holding himself open for Steve, and thank Christ, Steve finally came to the end of his resistance.

He pushed the head of his cock against Tony’s opening.

“Steve!” Tony arched up, trying to impale himself on that enormous prick.

Steve’s hands came down over his hips and guided himself into Tony. He slid in, one agonizing, delicious inch at a time until he came to rest against Tony’s ass. Held himself still for a long moment.

“God, don’t stop now, Rogers,” Tony groaned. “You’re killing me, here.”

Steve rewarded his begging with blessed movement, his mouth coming down on Tony’s again, tongue matching his thrusts as he fucked Tony in earnest. Tony was robbed of breath, lost to sensation.

Steve rolled his hips, wicked and sparing Tony no mercy, fucking him, nailing his prostate with each stroke until Tony was whimpering and shaking, drenched with sweat. Pleading for Steve to continue, to keep on, to _come on_.

And then Tony was there, on the edge, and Steve’s mouth was everywhere, and his hands were hard and strong against Tony’s skin, and his cock was splitting Tony in two, and oh, fucking hell, it had never, ever been like this. Surely it wasn’t possible for something to feel so good and be so fucking wrong at the same time.

But it was, and Tony fell into his orgasm like tumbling off a cliff. He took a deep, shaking breath, and came. Heated, wet patches blossomed between them.

Steve stiffened and Tony could feel each spurt and jump and throb of his cock as he spilled himself deep inside Tony’s body.

“Oh, god,” Tony said. He weighed a million pounds. The idea of moving so much as his little finger filled him with lethargy.

Steve tucked his face against the hollow of Tony’s throat. Pressed his lips to the pulse point.

For a long moment, they just lay there, sated. Heat baking off their bodies, sweat drying.

“Tony?”

“Hmmm?” _Please, god, Steve, don’t ask me to move just yet._

“Is… is it supposed to stop?”

“What?”

“You said…” Steve sounded very young, somehow. Vulnerable. “You said it wasn’t real, that I’d… stop feeling it as soon as we…”

“Uh…” Oh, god, Tony was not up for a second round. Not just yet. _Some of us are old, Steve_ , he thought.

“I mean, the need, the desperation, that’s… easier,” Steve said. He still wasn't looking at Tony, kept his face down, but Tony could feel the heat cooking off him. He was willing to bet a considerable fortune (and he had several considerable fortunes to bet) that Steve was blushing like a tomato.

“Yeah, okay? And?”

“I… uh…” Steve hesitated, then said it so fast that Tony almost missed it. “Istillwantyou.”

Tony’s brain rewound the tape and played it again. “Yeah?” He stroked a hand down Steve’s shoulder. “Well, I know, sex can be kinda overwhelming, and you know, I’m better at it than most, so…”

Steve pulled back to study Tony’s face. “Do you have to be an asshole about this?”

“What? I don’t know, Steve. You should be… you know, not hot and bothered for me anymore.”

“You are.”

“Yeah, but I was to _start with_ ,” Tony pointed out. “The whole problem with this is that I’ve been in love with you _forever_.”

“Really?” Steve touched Tony’s cheek, light, almost hesitantly.

“Or something.” Tony shrugged. “What do I know about love?”

Steve leaned in, kissed him as light as a feather, as if he was afraid Tony was going to shove him away. “Guess we’ll figure that out. Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> For those who've asked, here's the excerpted scene. I was planning more, but realized I was massively wandering off the point and reigned it back in...
> 
> [Link here ](https://tisfan.tumblr.com/post/166017489379/weird-science)


End file.
